This is the Day of the Eternal Dawn
by Lailara
Summary: Dawn reflects on recent events while at school. Rated PG-13 for teenage trauma and issues. (I got this one in the right place finally!)


Title: This is the Day of the Eternal Dawn  
Author: AriellaGiselle  
Rating: PG-13 for teenage trauma and issues.  
Category: General, kinda Angst-y at the end  
Distribution: My Site and FanFiction.net; anyone else, just ask.  
Summary: Following Dawn's school day...  
Spoilers: The Body  
Time-Frame: Post "The Body"; Pre "The Gift"  
Status: Finished  
Author's Notes: Dawn may not be my favorite character, but I'll give her one thing: she's relatively easy to write. Told from Dawn's POV.  
Disclamer: I own nothing, except the miscellaneous classmates (specifically, Nathan, Paul, and Todd) here and there. Aiesha and Ms. Turner are actually Joss's. I just gave them names. Everything else belongs to Joss Whedon. "Crash" belongs to the Dave Matthews Band. I am making no profit off of this smattering of words.  
  
{*}{*}{*}{*}{*}{*}{*}{*}{*}{*}{*}{*}{*}{*}{*}{*}{*}{*}  
  
Man, I *so* don't want to get up. I don't want to go to school. I just want to lay here. It's not like anyone will miss me at school.  
  
Ok, so that's not true. Aiesha will miss me. She's, like, the only friend I have that doesn't act weird around me. If I didn't know better, I'd think that they all knew about me. Not being human and all.  
  
Buffy's calling for me to get up now. I wish Riley would come back. That way maybe Buffy would stop paying so much attention to me. She'd leave me alone.  
  
What to wear, what to wear. I have nothing to wear. Maybe I could "borrow" something from Buffy.  
  
Damn, she doesn't have anything clean either. Note to self: Do your own laundry. Oh, hey, her little pink shirt with the horny devil thing on it is clean. I'll just wear that.  
  
Ok, so, now I'm dressed and still running late. Oh, well. Buffy's got breakfast waiting for me downstairs. But, I'm not hungry.  
  
I tell Buffy that I'm leaving and she tells me to wait. I want to walk to school; I don't want a ride. She finally lets me leave. She tells me to have a good day. I think I mumble something about nothing good can come from school, but I'm not really paying attention to my own speech. I think she yells something about her shirt. Well, it took her long enough to notice...  
  
*****  
  
First period. Language Arts. Why do they just call it what it is? It's Reading, for goodness sake.  
  
Aiesha passed me a note when I sat down. Maybe it's important.  
  
"Hi, Dawnie,  
  
What's up? You missed a fight this morning. Not a very good one, though. Nathan Jenkins and Paul Dixon. They were fighting over -- who else -- Kirstie. You were right. She is a prima bia-tch.  
  
N-E-Way, what happened last night? I thought you were going to call me. If you busy, it's cool. I'm just wondering.  
  
Well, write back, ok? Later...  
  
Aiesha"  
  
I should write her back.  
  
"Aiesha,  
  
Sorry about not calling last night. Things got kinda, um, hectic.  
  
Since when is Nathan -- or Paul -- going with Kirstie? I thought she was mackin' on Todd. She's not only a bia-tch, but she's a slut, too. We should find proof.  
  
W/B soon, ok?  
  
Later, Dawnie"  
  
Oh, please tell me I'm not imagining that bell. Yippee. On to Keyboarding... *insert gagging noise*  
  
*****  
  
Who needs to learn to type anymore? Someday soon, we'll all have those little microphones like Willow has, anyways.  
  
And what's the worse? I have this class with Kirstie. I remember the day Mom died, Kirstie pushed Kevin into calling me a freak. I remember crying. I remember Aiesha trying to make me feel better. I remember talking to Kevin again in Art and him telling me that he liked Kirstie even less than I did. I remember Buffy coming into my class. I remember being so mad at her for interrupting me and Kevin and my class.  
  
I remember the meltdown. I remember thinking that Kevin would never ever want to talk to me again.  
  
Well, there's the annoying bell again. Oh, God, Kirstie's walking over to me. Walk away, Kirstie, go away! She says something about her mom wanting her to say how sorry she was for me and my sister. I mutter some thanks and stalk off towards my locker.  
  
Kevin hasn't said anything to me since that day. Everyone else has kind of ignored me or been extra careful around me. Aiesha's the only one who has even tried to be there for me.  
  
Someone calls my name and I jerk my head up to look around. Kevin. Oh, what does he want? He says that he's sorry for my mom and then hands me a slip of paper. Just in case, he says and smiles. I open the folded paper and gape at it. His phone number written in a small, even hand.  
  
I can't wait to tell Aiesha...  
  
*****  
  
History, who needs it? Same thing with Algebra. Now, English, here's something I can get into. Reading, writing, liturature. It's just a good thing I have that class alone. I mean, none of my friends are in this one. So, I can concentrate on writing or whatever we're doing.  
  
Lunch is next. I'm kinda hungry. I wish I hadn't skipped breakfast...  
  
*****  
  
Aiesha was stoked when I told her about Kev's number. She was all for me calling him tonight. I think I'll do that.  
  
Art's next, and I think I'll actually pay attention today. Make Kevin think I'm aloof. I think that's what guys are supposed to like. I don't want to seem clingy or gushy.  
  
We're still doing the whole negative space thing. I mean, how much negative space can there be around an object? I should ask Ms. Turner about that. No, I'd probably get detention for being a smart-mouth.  
  
*****  
  
Thank God, that Science passed quickly. I want to go home and crash. Crash into me. Where did that come from? Now, I want to go find my CD with that song on it.  
  
Hike up your skirt and show your world to me.... Um, I wonder what the next line is.  
  
*****  
  
The house is depressingly empty. Maybe I should go to the Magic Box. No, they'll just walk on eggshells, too. I'd rather sit at home alone than be treated like something breakable.  
  
I need a nap. A nap would be nice. My room smells nice. Like Mom.   
  
Wow, I miss her a lot.  
  
I call the Magic Box to tell Giles that I went home so he won't have to worry. I know he's doing his best for me and Buffy. Trying to be the father that he never had the chance to be or something like that.  
  
I'll sleep for a while and then call Kevin maybe. I look in the mirror and see myself smile at the thought of Kevin.  
  
But I'm not even human. Who could like a ball of energy? Who could want to be with a key to Hell? Kevin probably wouldn't, probably couldn't.  
  
I don't even feel the cuts on my hand when I slam my fists onto my dresser and they shatter my small perfume tray with the mirror in it. Damn, I really liked that. Oh, well, a key doesn't need a perfume tray.  
  
I wash out the cuts and wrap gauze around my hands. My bed feels so soft against my mostly numb body.   
  
Body.   
  
Mom's body was so cold. Her eyes were so dull.   
  
Her eyes were dull, and her hair was brittle, and her skin was like wax paper.   
  
She was dead...   
  
Dead.  
  
The word is so small, but its implications are so huge.  
  
The tears fall from my eyes without permission, and I don't try to stop them.  
  
I follow my tears into the Oblivion of sleep. I'll feel better when I wake up.  
  
  
  
  
FIN~ 


End file.
